


Können Sie das übersetzen?

by jowritesfiction



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:06:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4163283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jowritesfiction/pseuds/jowritesfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Can you translate that please?)</p>
<p>Beca spends a semester abroad in her junior year at the Universität der Harmonie in Berlin, Germany. It is there that she clashes with her Music Theory TA, Luisa, over the use of key changes and the beauty of a good harmony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Können Sie das übersetzen?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece of fiction set in a fictional school with fictional characters. I've never studied music to this level or been to Berlin, so there may be some incorrect facts. Just a heads up.

The woman in the front of the classroom was infuriating to Beca. Mostly because she was speaking German and this is supposed to be an English class. Also, her voice was all kinds of angels singing and sirens calling, which was just distracting. And finally, she was built like an Amazon woman – all blonde hair and long legs and wide smile. That last reason was so intimidating, that Beca only managed a meek hand in the air when her name was called for roll call.

 

Honestly. It was as though she had never seen a beautiful woman before. A beautiful woman speaking German, wearing dark tight jeans and a sharp looking black blazer. A woman with an easy smile and wide sort of blue-green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. And there was just this air about her, perhaps it was because she was the instructor, but she was still so young to be teaching them. It was all a bit too much for her first day at a new school.

 

And then the woman that identified herself as Luisa (or at least that’s what Beca picked up from the broken German that she knew), had transitioned into English and was welcoming the class. Luisa quickly explained that she wasn’t the instructor, but the TA for the class, as she was a Graduate student in voice. Despite not being the instructor, she would be handling the majority of the responsibilities and leading the lectures.

 

_Well that was just great._

 

Beca managed to catch the woman’s eyes for just a second before she ducked her head and began to jot down her notes. Writing furiously to keep up with the first lesson’s pace, Beca allowed the woman’s voice to invade her senses. It wasn’t until her neighbor was packing up his things that she realized the class was over and she had over three pages of notes. All in all it was a productive first class – aside from the occasional moments of her making eye contact and then turning crimson.

 

As she headed to her next lecture for the day, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of homesickness for her Bellas. She knew that a semester wasn’t a relatively long period of time in her life, but for her being the co-captain of an acapella group, it was a long time to be away from her squad. And from her friends.

 

Chloe had been in denial the whole summer, drilling the team despite it being their time off, to make sure that they could survive without Beca for five months. And so after twice a week rehearsals and set lists for the five months, Beca was given Chloe’s blessing as long as she promised weekly skype dates and email correspondence daily. All on top of her online studies from Barden and the courses here in Berlin. It was going to be a rough five months.

 

February could not come soon enough.

 

While the rest of her day was spent mostly the same, Beca managed to find her last class of the day right before the instructor was due. Sitting near the back of the class, Beca found herself sitting next to a familiar face. There in the seat beside her, in the same dark pants and black blazer, was Luisa and seeing her this close? Torture.

 

“It seems we’re both taking this class… Little mouse girl.” The blonde said, her eyes making contact with Beca.

 

“Excuse me?” Beca managed, choking on air, before she coughed to clear her throat. So far she was not coming across as smooth to her beautiful European TA and now fellow classmate. Compared to a mouse, and now forgetting how to do something as simple as talking and breathing at the same time.

 

“I can’t remember your name from class this morning – but your hand went up like a mouse would.” She answered with a shrug and a sharp, teasing smile before mirroring the action that Beca had done earlier in the morning.

 

“I’m Beca.” She said softly, meeting the stare of her more blue-than-green eyes before the instructor introduced himself to the class and Beca watched as Luisa opened her iPad and began to dictate intricate notes.

 

Scrambling to open her notebook, she quickly scribbled down the instructor’s name and began to write notes. Occasionally Beca would glance up to find Luisa staring at the instructor, but twice Beca caught the other woman looking at her with a hard to place expression. Either way it had Beca blushing and furiously writing down more notes in her margin as she strained to listen to what the professor was saying.

 

Somewhere near the end of the class Luisa had her hand up and then she was asking questions on a past composer’s philosophy compared to modern philosophy on harmonies and their symbolism. While Beca continued to jot down her notes, she made quick comments in the margins about her own hypothesizes, saving them for another time when she didn’t have the whole class turned back to face the woman beside her. She wasn’t about to cause a scene on her first day just because she had a different opinion than the professor and the woman beside her.

 

Then the class time was up and Beca was trying to close her notebook, when suddenly Luisa’s hand was stopping her from closing it. Beca glanced up at her to see her glasses on the tip of her nose while she furrowed her brows and squinted at Beca’s jumbled margin notes.

 

“You do not agree with me?”

 

“No. Harmony may be a prerequisite for beauty, but not in music.” She mumbled, before realizing that she wasn’t going to get away with it that simply. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she took a breath before collecting her thoughts. “Pythagoras first identified that the pitch of a musical note is in proportion to the length of the string that produces it, and that intervals between harmonious sound frequencies form simple numerical ratios. It’s simple math. Two plus two equals four.”

 

“You don’t see the beauty?” She asked, her smile fading into a more closed off expression.

 

“I can appreciate the beauty, but its math first.” Beca said, finally closing her book in time for her to see Luisa stand up with a soft smile.

 

“See you tomorrow morning, little mouse.” She said, while Beca watched her walk away.


End file.
